


Tea Time Pt. 2

by DefiledCinephile



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM Scene, Belts, Caning, Cuckolding, Dom/sub Play, F/M, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Flogging, Foot Fetish, FootStool, Hand & Finger Kink, Humiliation, Leather Kink, Licking, M/M, Masochism, Morning After, Painplay, Pegging, Service Kink, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefiledCinephile/pseuds/DefiledCinephile
Summary: Rachel invites Greg over for an after dinner tea and a scene. He is pleasantly surprised, and equally touched, by the type of evening that unfolds.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne, Greg Davies/Alex Horne/Rachel Horne, Greg Davies/Rachel Horne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Tea Time Pt. 2

Two strong knocks and Alex wheels the door open – this time, to his home.

“Well, that felt eerily familiar.” Greg is stood there all in black; jeans, his favourite tee and serving as a keen reminder of the previous week, those same leather shoes. A bottle of red in one hand, a thin birch cane in the other. He takes in Alex with a childish amusement, looking otherwise his normal self, save the addition of an eye-catching collar.

“Greg!” Rachel calls out as she moves down the hallway toward them. His eyes dart past Alex. She’s in a revealing red long sleeve, black leather mini skirt and boots to her knees.

“Rachel. Hey, thanks for having me over.” He brushes by him and thumps the bottle into his chest on the way by, purring, “Put this somewhere til later, yeah.” He extends his hand. “I’ve been so excited to meet you.”

She waves him off with a laugh, her curls perfectly framing her angelic features. “We hug in this house - c’mere you.” Alex closes the door, side shuffles by their embrace and takes the bottle down the hall.

Greg pulls back slightly, hands on her shoulders, eyes rove, “Forgive me if - you look _stunning_ , I'm suddenly feeling a little too casual.”

“No, no, you look great Greg,” she rests a hand on his chest, “ _really_.” He gives her a cheeky smile.

Alex reappears. “He's a little overdressed though, no?” He freezes as they turn. Their eyes scrutinize. He takes her hand from his chest and lifts it up to kiss her fingertips. “ _May I?_ ”

“Please, feel free.” He dips down to kiss her cheek. “I mean, as I understand it, I can now consider you a _co-owner_ of sorts,” she adds saucily. He sneers and circles behind Alex.

He looms above him. “So you _did_ tell her about all that, hmm?”

“I keep nothing from my Mistress.”

“That’s a good rule.”

“It’s not a rule,” Alex states simply.

“He just, never would. It’s his nature, it’s how he is. You’ll see - he's _very_ _loyal_ , he’ll devote himself to your _every_ _whim_.”

Greg rubs his fingers along Alex’s neck, sizing up how far his hand can stretch around his throat. “I look forward to seeing much more of that.” He feels Alex gulp nervously, the smallest of sadistic smiles tugs at his lips. “This definitely stays, I really do like this. Did you have this made special, Rachel?” Runs his finger along the thin flamingo pink stitching and looks back at her with kind eyes.

“I actually made that myself, a couple of online tutorials, we just couldn’t find the right one. It turned out even better than I thought. It’s a few years old now, but it’s held up pretty well.”

“It’s beautiful, but also – _fitting_.” Greg’s hot breath against his ear pervades all as he croons, “Crafted by the very hands that control you. Such a pretty pink.” He feels Alex’s body try to relax into him, he takes a large step back, a more authoritative tone returning, “Well, you won't be needing these.” He taps the toes of each shoe with the cane. Alex quickly uses his toes to strip them off at the heel. “Socks, too!” He hops on one leg, then the other, rips them off in record time and tosses them haphazardly alongside his shoes. Rachel and Greg, both clearly entertained by this, exchange a cruel glance. Greg circles behind him again, “Which do you think I prefer, Alex? Hmm? Speed … ?” He unbuckles Alex's belt and whips it free in one violent motion. He watches as a sinister smile takes over Rachel. And hears as an anxious exhale is emitted from Alex. “Or grace?” He drags the folded belt edge under his nose, across his lips, lingering long enough to allow him to fully submerge into the smell.

“Grace. My apologies, Greg,” Alex utters from behind the belt, a sincerity to his words.

“See, slower is always better. Yeah … ” Alex leans into him, drifts. “Take the time to appreciate every little thing we gift you.” He watches as Alex takes a long, seemingly immersive breath of the leather. “That’s it … He really craves pain doesn’t he? Punishment, yeah … All that sweet sensation. Is it the leather or simply the threat of the pain?” Alex breath hitches. “ _Ohh_ , not just yet - not until you've earned it .” He shrugs his body off his chest. Snaps him from his haze. “Let’s lose these then, c'mon.” He tugs at his trousers.

“And do be neat about it,” Rachel chides.

He steps out of his trousers and folds them neatly. Bends to pick up his discarded socks and shoes, making a neat pile.

“Again with the pink pants, Alex.”

“It's all he's allowed.”

An involuntary laugh escapes Greg as he moves back alongside Rachel, “That’s a nice touch.”

“I still think we could do better. This whole look, it’s just kind of lacking something, isn’t it?”

“Yeah … you’re right. I mean, we both know that deep down he’s nothing more than a masochistic mess of a man, but that's not really coming across.” He rips at the fabric of his shirt until the top two buttons fly off. “Hmm, that’s closer. Hold on - ” He grazes Alex's left cheek. “I’ve got just the thing to complete this whole look.” His opposing hand steady, ready to brace the blows, he looks to Rachel, “This’ll do the trick, for sure.” Turns back. “Look at me, Alex.” Slaps him across the right cheek. “Keep looking.” A harder slap. “Look me right in the eyes and you don’t go anywhere in your head, understand. There will be no escaping any of this.” Another slap! “I was pretty lenient about that last time, but that’s just too easy for you.” And another! “It's much harder to stay _present_ , _innit?_ ” Another! He blinks back the tears beginning to form. “Here.” Another! “With us.” ANOTHER! “I mean, why the fuck would you want to be anywhere else?” He steps back. Alex looks – completely dishevelled, his eyes have started to well up and his right cheek is mottled red. There was not much dignity in this look; bare feet, pink pants and an untucked white button up torn open to accentuate his collar. “But I’m here to see Rachel, not you. Go store this somewhere safe until we need it.” Greg indicates his intention by opening his mouth. Alex mimics the action and very gently takes the birch cane between soft lips.

“We’ll have a tea when you're done,” Rachel adds as she glides toward the kitchen. Greg turns in tow. Once they've disappeared around the corner Alex makes his way in the other direction, careful to maneuver the cane properly through the doorframe in order to not cause any damage.

When he returns Greg and Rachel are sat at the kitchen table, they are both laughing about something, but fall silent as he approaches. Alex finds himself momentarily irked that Greg is sat in his usual chair, thinking it strange that such a small thing, in the grander scope of what was to come, should shake him - even in the slightest.

“A pot of tea. Properly, hmm, the way I showed you.” Alex nods politely and turns, “And don’t even think about embarrassing me in front of Greg.”

He flicks the kettle on. “I wouldn’t dare, Mistress.”

“So he really did tell you everything then, from the other day?”

“Oh, yes, Alex tells me everything. And honestly, I loved hearing all about it. He gushed about absolutely every detail. Got hard just describing it to me.” Alex sets out the milk, sugar and two tiny teaspoons.

“So it pleased you? Hearing how I treated him?”

“Oh, very much so. You actually, genuinely get it – get - him – there’s a lot who don’t. I think you caught him by surprise, though.”

“How so?”

“He thinks he’s so secretive, that no one can see the submissive little slave inside him – and again, to be fair, most don’t. He thought he’d have to seduce you into it, slowly convince you, the fact you sussed him out so quickly – after just one meeting - I think you scared him a little.”

The water boils in the background. “It’s hard getting exactly what you ask for, especially when you haven’t asked for it yet.” Alex brews the tea and returns to the table a moment later with a warming pad and the steaming pot. He has a digital timer clipped to his shirt. “What’s this?” Greg flicks at it.

“The brew time remaining, sir.” He winces as soon as it leaves his lips, unsure whether that assumption was correct. Frozen by Greg's glare, mouth agape, and now, yes, sure of his obvious mistake.

With good-humoured sternness, “I gather you've already sensed your misstep?” A prodding eyebrow furrow. A small silence. “It’s Greg.”

“Sorry. Greg. I was just trying to be - ”

Greg places a fast hand across his mouth, leans in and lowers his voice, “I know exactly what you were _just trying to be_ – and believe me, when you’re in my house we'll play by very different rules, but here, in your own home - it’s just Greg, got it?” He nods, trying not to overtly smell Greg's fingers, fighting the urge to kiss his palm. As Greg's hand drops away the loss of touch is immediately noticeable in his eyes. He beelines it back to the cupboards.

He fetches three cups, three saucers and places one of each in front of them.

“Why have you brought extras, Alex? You didn’t really think you were going to join us, did you?”

“I thought - ” She flips the third cup upside down and places it on the opposite side of the table. Alex’s timer beeps and he pours them each a cup, careful not to spill a drop, leaving two fingers of space for milk in Greg's cup and filling Rachel’s to a higher level.

He looks up at her, unsure of who's to start with and tentatively reaches for her cup.

“Guests first, Alex. Don’t be rude.”

“Sorry, Greg.” He streams in the milk until confident of the colour and just as he had the week previous, sprinkles in the sugar. He stirs it, tastes it. He sprinkles a few more grains in, flips the spoon to its handle and stirs one more time.

Greg seems amused by the routine of it all. “He’s very thorough.”

Alex shakes off the smile that creeps into the corner of his mouth. He grabs a second teaspoon and levels it, quickly stirs to dissolve the sugar in Rachel’s cup and angles the handle towards her, “And so eager to please,” she opines. He takes a large step back from the table and slowly dips down to his knees, palms on his thighs, eyes alert but averted.

“I’m very impressed, Rachel.”

“Teach him something once and he'll remember, he's got a real knack for the smaller details.”

“I can see that.” He sips at his tea and sighs, “Delicious. So, how long have you two been together anyway?”

“More than a decade now.”

“And you do this often, or … ?”

“When the kids are away, we like to play. We take what opportunities we can get nowadays.” She blows lightly to cool her beverage before imbibing.

“I can imagine.”

“But if you mean with other people, then never actually.”

“Really!? Now that - surprises me. You _seem_ … ”

“What about you, Greg? Do this kind of thing often? Alex said you _seem_ … _experienced_.”

He snorts. “I haven’t actually played with anyone in a long time, besides what happened last week anyway. I had a couple boys, girls - regular subs - but they've all either moved on or married. That was a few years ago now. It really needs to be the right fit for me to - lately I just haven’t – it can get a little lonely when - well, I didn’t realize how much I actually missed it all until that meeting with Alex. He’s just so … _my type._ Instantly, I was flooded by a million awful ideas, for fucking weeks, couldn’t shake it. So when he called to say the show was green-lit I just had to go see him, right then. I wasn’t about to wait any longer.”

Greg picks up the saucer, sets it on the floor and coaxes it toward Alex’s knees with his shoe. “If it's okay with you Rachel, I think he's earned himself a tiny taste.”

“Quite right, Greg, a little caffeine might do our boy here some good. Even if by now it’s rather cold and bitter.” She reaches for the teapot and pours some into the saucer. “After all, he does have a long night ahead of him. What do you say, Alex?”

“Thank you Mistress.” He kisses her boot. “Thank you.” He makes an overly eager move with his mouth and she immediately pulls away, back to her chair.

“We want lapping only, tiny little licks – civilized.”

“Did you see it in him right away, or did he take some convincing?”

“He’s always been very service oriented, he's a real people pleaser, _aren't you baby?”_

He blushes and fights back a laugh between laps, “Yes, Mistress.”

“Obviously, he lives to be humiliated, and at first I think my sadistic streak scared him, but now I suspect that the pain play is what he longs for most.”

“What’s his safe word?” He asks, finishing his tea.

“Pineapple. It’s rare, because he's such a slut for the harsher stuff, but he will use it if necessary.”

“Pineapple.”

“Its weird, I've never shared him before, but this just all feels so, natural somehow. I guess Alex just knew you’d be the right fit, for both of us, or – it sort of surprises me at how easy this all seems.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. I’ve played with a lot of people, including couples, and it’s usually much more awkward, even off-putting at times. You two are so normal or - happy might be the better word, that it does seem _natural_ \- I'm not sure I've ever experienced _this_ … ”

Alex pushes the saucer forward with his nose indicating he had finished, eyes pleading for a dash more.

“Polite little puppy.” Greg leans down to refill it. “There you go, that’s all you get, though. What do you say?”

“Thank you, Greg.”

“Good boy.” He pets the top of his head.

“He is - he's such a sweet little boy. So it makes for a nice _change - to have a real man in the house.”_ Alex watches under the table as between licks, she runs her boot up and down his leg, seductively grazing his inseam.

He takes her hand gently from her cup, opens it and deeply kisses the palm. “Is there anything you'd like in particular out of tonight?”

“Let’s just see how it goes, hmm.” Rachel takes his hand in hers and urges him to stand. “Tea always makes me a bit peckish, you? Alex prepared us a snack plate earlier.”

“That sounds lovely.”

She leads them over to a set of stairs and looks back. “Alex.” They exchange a knowing glance before she pulls Greg down the stairs towards the den.

Alex pulls his knees up from the unforgiving tiles, quickly collects and stacks the dishes near the sink and reaches into the fridge to retrieve the snack plate. He removes the cling film and places it on an open waiterly-type hand as he too descends toward the den.

It was an overwhelming image to approach with any sort of ease, each perched on their own high backed armchair. It had never occurred to him before how much they resembled thrones, but now – with their eyes devouring any sense of calm he had left, he couldn’t see anything else. The tray rattles ever so slightly as he places it on the small table dividing them.

“And what exactly have you prepared for us, here?” Greg prompts.

“Halved Kalamatas, a bit of lemon zest and fresh rosemary cream cheese filling. Charred tomato pita crisps sprinkled with feta. And in case you'd rather something sweet - I've marinated some sour cherries in bourbon and honey. I wasn’t sure what you'd feel like or what you like. Hopefully there’s - something for everyone.”

She hooks her finger through the collar’s ring, “Looks like a really delicious little snack we have here.”

“I’d say,” Greg growls.

“All fours, Alex.” As he arranges himself at their feet she continues, “I like to kick my feet up while I'm having a snack, you know _really_ relax. Don't you, Greg?”

“Definitely.”

Fully formed as a foot stool, the pair rest their feet atop his back. It is hard, trying to offset the balance of Greg’s heavy shoes which dig in at the shoulders, with Rachel’s dainty boots which dance across his ass and lower back. He can hear crunching, sucking and groans of pleasure which flood his head with happiness. He can feel her occasionally shift, lifting one foot from his back, presumably to rub along Greg’s leg. Her boot. His leg. Under the table. Little licks. The earlier image burns itself into his forebrain.

“Mmm, do you always eat this well?”

“He’s very talented in the kitchen,” she pops an olive into Alex's mouth, a welcome distraction. “I consider myself quite spoiled. Can I offer you _the_ _something_ _sweet_ , Greg, he knows these are my favourite, the _suck_ _up._ ” She holds up a cherry, extends it a little, but makes him meet her halfway. Greg chuckles as he is fed. “Careful.” He sucks at the flesh leaving just the pit in her fingertips. She nudges Alex with her boot, “Hand.” Alex raises a cupped hand, she places the pit in it and as a reward, reaches down to share a single cherry. He sucks the honey from her fingers gratefully as they leave his lips and spits the pit into his own hand. Greg spits two more into his still open palm.

“Only one left,” Greg teases as he rubs the liquid from his fingertips along Rachel’s lips and then sucks it off languorously. She withholds a wanton whimper, nearly, as she nibbles at the fruit held between his fingers. “I can see why they’re your favourite.” He sucks the remainder from the pit. “Alex, hand!” He barks and places the last pit into his cupped hand.

“You’re so good with him, Greg. It makes me so fucking wet.” He turns, with eyes alit and slides one honeyed finger into her mouth. He peppers tiny kisses against her lips while probing that finger deeper.

“I could be so good with you, too.”

Rachel’s boots leave his back, he watches as they close in on his face. She squats down to his level, tilts his chin and they share a momentary smile, it’s brief, but Greg relishes it. These were two people who clearly loved each other, for who they really were. And who chose him, to share in _this_ , in something special. “Do your best to keep our guest entertained, okay sweetie.” She touches a finger to his nose. “I’ll be right back.”

She stands and pushes him gently with her heel, urging his body toward Greg, who sits stoically, the half folded belt across his thigh. Alex watches as she disappears up the stairs. “See anything you like, slut?”

“A few things.”

“Really ... Mmm - ” He pulls on the collar’s ring and leans over until their foreheads touch. “Why don’t we show that lovely wife of yours what an eager little foot slut you were for me last week, hmm?” He sits back comfortably, crossing his legs. Alex starts with the shoe on the floor. Long, slow strokes of his tongue along the leather, achingly slow, making sure to take his time like Greg had taught him. He shifts to the other which hovers above Greg’s knee. Long licks on the bottom of the dirty sole. He steals glimpses of the belt draped across Greg’s thigh. All he can smell and see – is leather. He sucks seductively on the toe, appreciating this angle even more.

He hears Rachel return and set some things down behind him. She moves behind Greg's chair, hands gently massaging his shoulders and leans into his ear, “He’s very good at that, isn’t he?”

“He is. You know Rachel, I didn’t think myself much of a foot guy before but your sweet little boy here, well I'm pretty sure he's given me a full-on fucking fetish.” He feels Alex giggle and changes tone, “Or maybe it’s simply _seeing him at my feet …”_ He pulls his crossed foot from Alex’s lips and pushes him back down to the shoe he had started with. He rests his heavy heel on the back of his neck, “… that gets me so _fucking_ _hard_. It’s just so obvious, innit? Isn’t he so obvious? Stealing little glances at the belt like I don’t notice. I can see how desperately you want me to hurt you, Alex, longing for what you know is only inevitable.” Rachel steers his ass upwards. She pulls his pants down just past his cheeks. His breathing becomes anticipatory.

Greg drags the folded edge of the belt across one cheek, then the other. I would like to hear clear counting. To ten.” The first belt blow lands with a light surface sting.

“One.” He mumbles, sandwiched by shoes.

“Louder,” he barks as he delivers a much stronger second.

He feels Alex breath out hard, absorbing the pain, and with more volume he says, “Two.”

“Much better.”

The belt digs in. “Three.”

The strikes hit deeper. “Four.”

Jarring thuds felt through his entire body. “Five!”

The sweet sensations momentarily cloud his memory. “Seve – no, uh - Six!”

“Trying to skip one, are we cheater? We'll count that one again, and…”

“SIX!”

“I’m not hearing much appreciation coming from down there, Alex.”

“Sorry Mistress. Thank you, Greg.” In quick succession the next few were by far the strongest. Through gritted teeth, “SEVEN. Thank you. Eight! Fuck! Thank you. NINE! Thank you, Greg. Thank you. Thank - thank you.”

He makes him wait out the last one. “Ooh. Look at him flinch. The anticipation. The adrenaline. Where will it land? How hard will it be? _Brace_ _yourself_ … ” he taunts.

He lightly brushes the tip against Alex’s ass, a tickly, giggly shiver runs through him, “Ten,” he laughs, followed by an unsteady exhale, full of pent up nerves. “Thank you, Greg.”

They all share in the giggle. Greg stands.

Rachel pulls his pants back up, “Now that he’s all warmed up, I think it’s about time for our little pain slut here to _really_ come out and play. Stand up.” Alex gets to his feet, reveling in the foot to face slow reveal of Greg. Rachel turns him toward her, she carefully removes his shirt and walks him to the nearby wall. “Hands.” He places them on the wall, thumbs and index fingers touching to form a perfect triangle as she retrieves the floggers.

Greg leans up against the wall next to Alex’s hands, he watches as he slows his breathing, attempts to drown in the triangle. He notices a pineapple tattoo on his forearm, “Which came first,” he looks at Rachel slyly, “the pineapple - ” he pinches it, hard enough to break him from his dreamy daze, “or the pain?”

“It was his safe word first. He got that little guy after the first time he used it.” She begins, with both floggers, in a Florentine style. “That was _quite_ _the_ _night_ , wasn’t it Alex?” At first slow and with a steady, crushing rhythm until his back registers an even shade of red.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Greg is clutching the bowl of cherry-stained bourbon honey, sucking it from his fingers, quite vocally. “Mmm, yeah … so fucking good. What a lucky boy, Rachel really knows what she’s doing with you, doesn’t she?”

“She does,” he squeaks.

The at-first-welcome slapping sensations of the dual floggers quickly devolves into a series of sharper stings, then transforms once more into excruciating near lacerations all along his upper back.

“ _Ooh_ , watch his eyes change. Fuck. I like that. All the classic signs of a true masochist, all that body language they just can’t suppress. You give yourself away my friend. Hey … don’t look away now, eyes on me, remember? There’ll be no disappearing into the pain. You’ll stay right here. With me. And face it. Good. That’s it.” Alex grimaces, his breathing ragged. He bites his bottom lip as it quivers, eyes open but visibly glazing over.

Sensing he can’t take much more, Greg swirls two fingers in the bourbon honey. “Open,” he purrs, offering his sticky fingers for Alex to suck on. Relief washes his face, but only momentarily, as the strikes keep thundering down, over and over. Greg massages them in and out of his obedient mouth. “You'll take a few more. For me. Mmm, that’s it, what a good boy … such a little slut for it.” A few lines almost break and Greg makes a silent indication to Rachel, she stops.

He digs his fingers into the worst hit areas and sneers at the groans and snivels it produces. “Your wife has given you quite the back piece here Alex, so artistic, she's _very_ _talented_ , _ooh_ this spot here in particular I find _deeply_ _moving_.” A sharp pang. He involuntarily falls to his knees.

“ _Aww_ … Legs stopped working, have they? That’s okay.” He growls as he drags Alex to the couch, two crooked fingers through his collar. He throws him across the arm of the couch. “I’ll only be needing that mouth at the moment anyway.” Greg frees his cock with one hand while using the other to wedge Alex’s mouth open with his thumb. He edges himself in, “That’s it, we go nice and slow, we take our time with it, don’t we?” He sees in his periphery as Rachel straps on a cock that could rival his own. “I thought he was able take me a little too easily last week, suddenly it all makes perfect sense.” He continues to plunge deeper.

She takes a moment to stroke Alex’s hair as he chokes, struggling to take all of Greg. “We worked our way up, didn’t we princess?” She licks and kisses the speckled welts along his back as she peels off his pink pants.

Greg holds his head steady. “Such a greedy little hole you've got here.” Alex coughs and sputters as he begins to make long, deliberate thrusts in and out of his throat. “ _Filthy_ _fucking_ _slut_. Just begging to be fucked.”

“What a messy boy,” Rachel utters as she wipes the thick drool strands that have formed at the sides of his mouth. She lubes up her cock with it. Greg gazes on, mouth agape as she reaches a hand under her skirt, the slickened hand that emerges finishes a few more passes across the cock, “Let’s see if this hole is just as hungry, hmm.” She slides into his ass easily.

“You’re – incredible – amazing like that, fuck, you look so good.” He brushes the hair from her face, his fingers weaving into the curls at the back of her head as he leans in closer. He brushes her lips gently but won’t make the final move, smiles, she gives in with a giggle, but he pulls back with teasing eyes. “Is Alex here just warming up this cock for _you_?” She nods.

As their tempo of thrusts seems to sync up, Alex can hear them begin to snog quite amorously above him.

Alex tries to tell them he’s about to - There isn’t space for words to get by Greg’s cock – He tenses - His body shudders - Muscles contract - His body squeezes her cock from his ass - It’s too late - It's happened.

Greg dislodges his dick from his throat, grasps him by the chin and looks beneath him, “Did you just fucking come? _Without_ _permission? Alex_ … tsk, tsk, tsk,” Greg chastises, “Naughty boy.”

“You know very well that’s not the sort of thing I let go unpunished in this house. It’s a good thing Greg’s here.”

He lifts him from the arm of the chair, “Fetch me my cane.” And shoves his naked body toward the stairs.

Alex steals a brief glance back as he scampers up the stairs. They were quite the pair. Two people with two very different statures, fully clothed, sporting matching, massive erections.

Rachel is kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back. She taps at the top of the cushioned back as Alex comes down the stairs, cane between his lips. Greg grasps his shoulders and steers him toward her. “Hands here, like this. Stay still, okay. I mean it, _do_ _not_ _move_.” He says against his ear as he slides the cane through Alex’s lips.

Rachel teases them open with her tongue as soon the tip has passed through. “ _Oh_ , he’s not going anywhere. This is exactly where he wants to be. _Isn’t_ _it, Alex?_ You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes. I love it, I need it, I deserve it.”

Greg starts light, peppering his entire ass with progressively stronger bites of the birch.

She kisses him, sensuously, “Mmm - you do – don’t you? You taste so nice. Like fear. And Greg’s cock.” His breath catches.

Switching to stripes, using the length of the cane, along his ass, down the backs of his legs, Greg purrs overtop of his muffled moans, “This is my absolute favourite toy. I have to be careful though - it can really break a person down rather quickly. It takes someone with real _willpower_ to last for long, but we'll come to a point where _even_ _your_ impulse will win out, and then I get to watch - as your body overrides your brain.” The tempo only increases. The jolts building into a crescendo, a cacophony of pain. “Most would have begged me to stop by now, but not you … no, you can take quite a lot, can't you? Yeah … you think you're pretty tough, hmm? Well - we'll just see about that. ” Alex yelps. His ass is a lattice of red welts. His eyes begin to well.

“ _Ooh_ , looks a little tender.” Greg says, fingertips grazing his hot skin. “Pretty raw, yeah? Let’s give that ass a bit of a rest.” He runs a hand down the front of his thigh, bending his knee, cradling his foot. Sole facing upward. He spreads his toes by applying pressure with his thumb. “Do you know what comes next?” He’s rubbing the length of the cane back and forth along his arch, “I do want you to try your best to stay still, but I also know that your body will make that near impossible. See, sometimes it’s the smallest things, that get the biggest reactions.” He begins to cane the sole of his foot. It was methodical. Shooting lightning bolts up through every nerve in his leg. The ball of his foot instantly aflame. Alex cannot control the noises that escape him, his hands remain in place, but he can’t stop his leg from trying to rip it’s foot from Greg’s grip. His muscles dance, but his body manages to hold position. “Every time you take a single step for the next week I want you to remember this, Alex. Right down in your _soles_ I want you to think of me.”

Alex writhes. He whines. Greg feigns an obliviousness, lowers that foot to the ground and continues the exact same process with the other. “All night you’ve really impressed me, Alex. All this mental bondage shit, it can be a real mind fuck, and in my personal opinion it’s one of the hardest things to expect from someone.” His fingers dig into the cushions. Every nerve in his body screams out. Tears begin to fall from his unwavering eyes, Rachel dotingly wipes them away with her thumbs as they roll over his cheeks. Greg, and his cane, are unrelenting. “Anyone can take the pain when they're all tied up _hmm_ , restrained, unable to flee, but no ropes, no chains you just do what you’re told, don’t you - _you_ _stay_ – to play – most men wouldn’t be able to control themselves right now, or remain this calm, but you’re so much stronger than that. _I know you won’t run away._ Look at your lovely wife, your Mistress … Rachel was right about you. _Very_ _loyal_ … and – oh - what was it again?”

“Devoted to your every whim,” Rachel whispers against his lips, now salty with his tears.

“Right. Well, I've just had one, Alex. _Can you guess what it is?_ ” Greg sets his foot back down on the floor and moves in behind Rachel. “Now, _stay_.”

He whispers something in her ear that Alex can’t make out. They both look at him and smile, Greg stretches her shirt down, over her shoulders, exposing her breasts. Two pert, perfect handfuls. She squeals as he rolls her nipples between his thumb and index fingers. Hands trace her frame, powerfully, with a sense of ownership he pushes the skirt up and over her ass. “ _Mmm_ , what a dirty girl. Does your wife always go panty free or just when she knows I'm coming over? Eyes up Alex. We want you to watch. Enjoy it. There’s no point in disappearing now, not when you've already made it this far. Remember what I told you earlier, we want you to be present - _for all of it_.” Greg tests the waters with two fingers, “It’s a fucking lake over here, mate.” He sucks at his slick fingers and hears Rachel's gasp as he thrusts in deeply. His fingers return, this time to tease her clit, in slow circles.

She kisses Alex deeply, places her hands on top of his, tightly gripped and still in position. “It’s so fucking good, baby. You were right, Greg really knows how to – _oh_ \- Fuck! I'm so close already.” She slips a hand between her legs, behind his balls and mimics his slow, pressurized circles along his taint and the sensitive skin along his asshole.

“So skilled with those hands … that’s very nice, does she ever treat you this nice? Does she even - let you - fuck her?” She hears him groan and struggle to maintain the same pace as soon as her fingers release their pressure. Uncontrollably now, his thrusts becoming increasingly animalistic. “Watch, Alex. Watch me fuck your wife - the way you only wish you could.”

“Greg, I'm gonna – _Fuck!”_

“Good girl.” She comes. Her body wild, taken over by the violent convulsions, spastic muscles contracting to keep him deeper. He continues. Harder. Faster. “Look at your wife, Alex. See how fucking beautiful she looks like this. Drunk on my dick.” He pulls her from Alex’s lips, her back against his chest, hands clawing at her breasts, lips grazing the nape of her neck. “Something for you to remember.” He manages a few more thrusts before he allows his body the release. An earth-shattering pulse rocks his entire system as he comes. He kisses between her shoulder blades. And listens - as their heart beats slow and the trio's breathing begins to normalize.

Rachel, a giddy pep to her step, bounds up the stairs. Alex is somewhere else, deep in subspace still, his hands haven’t moved from their place on the back of the cushions. Greg zips up his fly and flops out on the couch. He reaches up behind his shoulder and grasps Alex’s hand with a gentle urgency, “Come over here, sit down with me.” He drapes Alex in a nearby blanket as he leans heavily into his chest.

Rachel returns, donned in a robe, with that bottle of red and three stemless wine glasses. “Are the two snuggly boys joining me for a glass?”

“Yes, please.” She hands a glass to Greg.

She sits down on the other side of Alex, a hand on his knee, she speaks sweetly, “Sit up a little and have a glass of wine with us, sweetie, okay?” She kisses the back of his neck as he sits up and unclasps his collar. She places it in her robe, exchanging it for a tin of lotion and pours them each a glass of wine. She takes his hand, wraps it around the glass and proceeds to peel the blanket away along his back and ass. Rachel carefully dabs and soothes the welts, the fresh bruises. Greg watches as he winces, and smiles sweetly as he eventually relaxes into it.

When she’s finished Rachel grabs her glass, and sinks into Alex who sinks into Greg - they all snuggle in silence for a long while, quietly sipping on their wine.

Greg leans over and dots a kiss on Alex’s temple. “You feel okay about everything?”

His eyes closed, barely audibly, “Mmm-hmm, better than okay Greg, you were _both_ – I don’t have words at the moment – I loved it - every second of it ."

“Of course you did. I did too, sweetie.”

“And the marks?”

“He loves being marked.”

“I really do. They'll fade and be gone in four or five days - ”

“Maybe more like two weeks for this baby.” She pokes a particular spot on his upper ass.

“ _Aaah…_ ” He inhales sharply, a pained smile, “And in the meantime I get to feel them, watch them heal and really remember. I love that.”

“That’s - “ he strokes his cheek with his thumb. “Thank you for telling me that, Alex. And the tears?”

“Only good tears, Greg.” He puts a hand on his knee, “I found it _all_ \- _very_ _cathartic_. Please believe me when I promise that if anything ever truly upsets me, or pains me in a bad way – I would tell you, right away.” He stands, wraps the blanket around his waist and with hand on heart, jokes, “I always bottom responsibly.” Greg chuckles and Alex begins to tidy up, collecting their discarded dishes.

Greg sighs, “Well … I guess I best be off - ”

“Would you care to spend the night, Greg? Bit of a drive for you. Why not do it after breakfast instead?”

“Alex makes a pretty mean breakfast spread.”

“I don’t doubt it. I just think I may be a little big to stay in one of your boys beds so - ”

“You can share the bed with Rachel.” Alex says, too quickly. She nods. “I'll take the boys room.”

“Are you sure about that, Alex – because if this is about what I said earlier I don't want –

“You both just spent most of the night doing so much for me, I feel like this is my chance to return the favour. You were quite the team, why not finish the night out that way. Plus, I mean, its pretty obvious you both fancy each other.”

“I don’t know – it feels a little - ”

She takes Alex’s spot on the couch and dances a few fingers along his thigh, “Would you stay for me, Greg? If I wanted you to? Because I _really_ do.”

“She’s been begging me to ask you for the last week.” Alex smirks. She shoots him a look that lets Greg know there was definite truth behind it.

“That settles it, then.” He throws her over his shoulder. She giggles as he playfully slaps her ass. “See you in the morning, mate. Say goodnight, Rachel,” he coos lowering her slightly by the feet, she leans down to kiss Alex.

“Sweet dreams, baby.” He blows her a kiss as they disappear up the stairs. For a second, he watches the steps somewhat sadly, then shakes his head and smiles wryly.

He sets the dishes in the kitchen and heads off to the boys room. Climbs into one of the twin beds and pulls the dinosaur duvet snugly around him. Even being at the opposite end of the house he could still make out the odd groan, and a familiar scream, as he drifted off.

The house is spotless, as if nothing out of the ordinary had taken place.

Grinding coffee, he doesn’t hear her approach, she hugs her hands around his waist, “Morning, sweetie. Did you sleep okay?”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiles and looks back at her reassuringly. She watches as he finishes the pour over coffee pot preparations by blooming the coffee grounds with a little boiling water.

“How long have you been up?”

“Only an hour or so. Is – um…?”

“Yeah. Greg’s just on his way down.” She peeks in the oven, “This looks – _incredible_ , _wow!”_ She kisses him, deeply. “Thank you so much.”

He sees Greg duck under the door frame, sneaks one more kiss to her cheek and whispers, “You're very welcome.” He steps by her, oddly nonchalant, a slight tease to his tenor, “Greg! Good morning. Coffee alright, or would you prefer a tea?”

He smiles, “Coffee sounds great, mate. Smells fucking fantastic.”

“Well, have a seat – everything’s ready.” He sets a cast iron skillet down in the middle of the table with homefries, bacon, roast tomatoes and over easy eggs. As Greg and Rachel spoon up plates for themselves, Alex slowly streams boiling water through the grounds, taking great care in the circular motions of the pour.

“Ooh, I want this one, look at that perfectly runny yolk!”

He pours them each a mug and piles up his own plate.

“This is the best cup of coffee I've ever had in my fucking life!” Greg declares. Alex sips at his own cup, so utterly satisfied.

Pleased by the orgasmic sounds of enjoyment exclaimed from around the table.  
Pleased by the mischievous glow on his wife’s face.  
And pleased that Greg may have felt a little less alone, for at least one night anyway. Before long he would be off to London, Alex would be off to pick up his children, and the house would return to normal.


End file.
